


Anemone

by pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human Experimentation, Medical Experimentation, Might be triggering for some people, One Shot, Protective Newt, Reader has been through hell, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, The Cure, The Flare, Unethical Experimentation, if you're unsure then don't read, its sad gonna say that, lets see how this story goes, maybe? - Freeform, only if you guys want more ill write more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms/pseuds/pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms
Summary: "What's your name?" The boy- Newt asked, turning his attention back to her, voice gentle."Subject A-29." She murmured robotically as Newt shook his head."No, your real name." He murmured, his hands fluttering above her arms as she whimpered, the warmth from his palms foreign to her."U-um. . ." She shuddered, staring up at him with a confused expression. "I-I don't. . .""You don't remember your name?"





	Anemone

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The Maze Runner Trilogy, only my character/s.
> 
> WARNING: If this is triggering for you, please don't read. I don't mean for it to be but if it is then please exercise caution.

_She lay silent, unmoving as they continuously took samples of blood._

_Injecting her with new formulas and variations of the antidote they were trying to synthesize for the Flare._ _Her arm outstretched, needle bruises and tape residue dark against the backdrop of her lifeless limb as she sighed quietly. She'd learned that screaming and pleading didn't stop them and physical assaults only wound up causing her more damage due to her weakened state. It was completely useless to try at this point._

_She was nothing but a test subject._

_A grown guinea pig for them to try their newest concoctions on her, she was a lab rat- nothing more than a vessel for them to use._

_She didn't have a name anymore, they only called her by her file name._

_She was Subject A29 - The Hybrid._

Opening her eyes, her pupils contracted as blank irises stared up at the white ceiling of her lab room.

She could faintly detect the scent of clinical soap seeping from her skin, feel the dense weight of her damp hair and the normally room-temperature air seemed colder than usual. They had washed her, but she felt anything but refreshed. She still felt unclean like there was a thick layer of grime over her skin, the marks were still prominent no matter how intensely they scrubbed at her skin.

Weakly, she lifted her arm and easily made out the splotches and lines that were temporarily tattooed to her skin. She let her arm fall back to her side heavily as she turned her head back to face the ceiling, eyes blinking as she listened to the rhythmic beeping of her own heart on the monitor. Until her ears were met with the sounds of grunting, gunshots and a muffled thud until the distinct beep of the card lock sounded and the silver door was flung open as a blonde boy with dark eyes in a white long-sleeve shirt and tan cargo pants stood in the doorway, panting hard.

"Shit. ." He whispered, eyes wide at the sight of the girl laying so lifelessly on the metal table with needles and tubes sticking out of her, he thought she might have been a corpse from first glance.

Blank eyes met dark chocolate.

"Are you here to test out a new formula?" Her voice was barely audible, croaky from disuse.

"Formula?" His British accent was more prominent as she nodded, gesturing with her fingers toward her upper arms and his eyes followed, sympathy and rage darkened them.

"For the Flare. I assume that's why you're here." Coughing softly, she swallowed what saliva she could to lubricate her throat, licking her dry, cracked lips before continuing, "you seem a bit young to be one of the doctors."

"I'm not one of those shucking doctors, if they can even call themselves that." That made her eyes widen as she stared at the boy who walked toward her, bending so he was above her. "What have they done to you?"

"Newt! We gotta g-, what the shuck?" An Asian boy ran into the room, his sentence falling short as his eyes fell on her, wide with shock.

"What's your name?" The boy- Newt asked, turning his attention back to her, voice gentle.

"Subject A-29." She murmured robotically as Newt shook his head.

"No, your real name." He murmured, his hands fluttering above her arms as she whimpered, the warmth from his palms foreign to her.

"U-um. . ." She shuddered, staring up at him with a confused expression. "I-I don't. . ."

"You don't remember your name?"

She shook her head, wordlessly. She hadn't been called by her name in years, only by her file name. She couldn't even remember the letter her real name started with.

"Well, for now. Let's call you. . . um. ." Newt seemed at a loss for words, looking to the Asian boy who shrugged before ducking out, "slinthead," Newt grumbled before staring at her, scrutinizing her thoroughly, "we need to call you something, love."

"Why?"

"Because we're going to save you and if you decide to stay with us, we'll need something to call you."

 _"Newt! Hurry up!"_ A voice from outside called as Newt acknowledged before turning back to her, rushed.

"Come on, love. We can get you away from all this."

She met his dark eyes once again and she could see the sincerity and, albeit, the urgency in them. He really did want her to go with him and she'd be damned if she thought she didn't want to leave. Nothing out there could be worse than inside the facility. With watery eyes, she gestured once again to the tubes and needles.

"I'll try to make it as painless as possible." Newt whispered gently to her, his thumb flitting across her forehead as she nodded.

"Please. ." She lifted her arms up and he supported them and true to his word, he painlessly retracted the tubes and needles, letting them fall and drip out onto the grey cement. Her eyes fluttered closed at his soft touch, tears threatening to fall as he slowly slid his arms under her and lifted her easily, muscles bulging from participating in the manual labor in the Glade. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, we're not free." Newt cradled her light, thin body to his and walked out, meeting the group who stared at him and the girl he carried with wide, shocked eyes, "alright, now we can go." He announced to the group as his dark eyes hardened, daring them to protest.

Nobody did.

A tall boy with an upturned nose nodded solemnly, "let's get the hell out of here." She assumed that he was the leader.

"Agreed." Newt nodded as he cradled her closer, staring down at her before noticing something just under her earlobe as her hair cascaded down his arm.

A tattoo.

Colourful flower petals drifting down her neck, slowly decaying until there was nothing but a single dried petal at the base of her neck. Newt smiled softly, his hand slightly slipping from her shoulder and cradled the back of her neck, fingers brushing against the vibrant petals just underneath her ear.

A flower that he doesn't remember having such a connection to but one he knew the meanings to.

 


End file.
